Holy Fish Sticks, Flounder! It Talks!
by yamigoddesslj
Summary: Bakura and Marik conduct some "male bonding" over Beauty and the Beast! Bakura? Warms up to the movie. Marik? Not so much. Not any less funny for Bakura's sappiness, promise! Rated for both foul mouths, ridicule of Disney movies, and just all-out insanity


Holy Fish Sticks, Flounder! It Talks!

A/N: This all started with one line: Bakura, are you crying? This story does a bit less analyzing and a bit more reacting, so you may not follow as well if you haven't seen it! Periodic recaps are inserted so you can catch up with what's happening, though, so don't be deterred! Bakura warms up to this movie! Marik…not so much.

Love to all reviewers, favoriters, and readers! Love also to my sister, who's now my collaborator and partner in crime! Also my bunk-bed-mate!

Fueled by Jeffree Star, Shane Dawson, Little Kuriboh, and lots of coffee.

"I don't see what's so bad, Bakura," Marik mumbled, cracking open another can of beer. "It's just alcohol…" He devoured another hot wing as Bakura frowned. "Oh, I forgot! There's a movie!"

"What?" Bakura was currently not even beginning to be inebriated, and he was a little wary of movies, ever since the incident with _Peter Pan_- how was he supposed to know that the kid was _in_ the television and not able to be sent to the Shadow Realm? He'd spent five hours wandering around in the darkness, searching for Ryou's TV under the threat of his hikari 'never liking him again,' and once he'd found it, he'd returned it, for which Ryou had been grateful. He'd still kicked him out to go see Marik for a while, which he'd been _about_ to do anyway, really…

Bakura growled as the logo came on the TV. "It's the cursed blue castle, damn it all to hell-" Marik almost fumbled his can of beer, laughing as Bakura cursed in Egyptian at the 'cursed blue castle.' He couldn't understand what was being said, but it seemed to be definitely profane.

"Oh, let the torture begin-" He was silent as he soaked up the background at the beginning, about how the 'evil pedo fairy' cursed the conceited Prince into being a Beast till he found true love. The catch? He couldn't let this cute enchanted rose die off, so he had till he was 21 to find love before he and his realm was cursed…for-ev-errrr. Mwahahaha-haaack!

Bakura grumbled, ripping off a bit of chicken from a hot wing, chewing on it idly as the movie opened. "Oh, open with a song! _That_ jibe's never been used before, has it? And _that's_ a sucky town?" Marik's outrage began slowly.

"Oh, she should try a basement. Who's the ugly jerk?" Bakura turned noticeably more feminine.

"Oh, Gaston…" he sighed, mocking the girls following the man. "Better question, who's the town brothel following him around? And why is this the first gorgeous heroine the idiots at Disney decided to put in a movie?" From the kitchen, a beep sounded. "Popcorn!" Bakura shot up, running into the other room, where there was perfectly popped corn. In the microwave.

From the couch, Marik paused the movie, groaning as loud crashes and shouted expletives reached his ears. "FUCK YOU, THEN!" The near-silent swish of an object disappearing into the darkness hissed into existence, and Marik jumped off the couch, jostling Bakura away from the glowing microwave, pressing the button to open the appliance. He handed Bakura his popcorn, raising one eyebrow.

They were going to need a new microwave in the Ishtar household.

"I don't blame her for refusing the beefcake asshole! Who does he think he is, Ricky Martin? Who's Ricky Martin? Ryou!" Sharing memories was almost never convenient. "Run, girl! Get away from the creepy stalker guy! Oh, foreshadowing much?" He'd just registered what the girl said about her new book.

"Oh, gods, what the hell is_ that_? What's it supposed to do? Axe-murder people?" He adopted a deeper voice, a mockery. "Hello, I'm an old man. Just step inside this contraption and your wishes for companionship will be fulfilled! Oh, no, the horrible screaming means it's working!" He rolled his eyes. "It could at least be a _subtle_ axe-murdering machine…"

"Alright, her dad looks like Jono! Why is there a Jono character in this one too?" Marik considered.

"Well, have you ever considered that maybe Jono looks like him instead?" Bakura glared at him.

"You're _this_ close to being- right, he looks like he's old enough to die, and you're letting him go off into the woods alone with an axe-murdering machine and a horse that looks like Elvis? Right, she's pretty but not the smartest! Got it!"

"Oh, right, a _shortcut_. He's abusing movie stereotype number 67! And blaming the horse! Shortcuts are cheesy routes to danger! Never work!"

"Oh, come on, they're just bats! They're cute! Look, something's burning! The horse ditched him! Wolves! I think he's gonna have a heart attack!" Bakura crossed his arms. "My respect for you, old man, just went lower, if possible."

"Right, go _in_ the creepy black gates, _in_ the creepy castle- oh, and since no one's there, call for whoever might answer in the creepy darkness! Anyone sensing the not-the-smartest gene running in the family?"

"Holy fuck, it's talking! And it has a name!" Bakura was pointing, horrified, at the candelabra and clock. "'Ello," Bakura croaked in imitation of the- Lumiere thing. "Right, he sneezes on the clock, how rude! And if clocks are talking, I think he's probably on drugs!"

"How anal is that? The talking clock's like, no, not the Mastah's chayah! No tea! No tea!"

"Pedo old man! That cup is only a child!" Bakura exaggerated his British accent. "AGh! It's a wolf-dog-bear thing! Run for your lives!"

"A _talking_ wolf-dog-bear-thing! He's presumptuous! Oh, no, whatever will the old man- Oh! Pwned! He's captured!" Bakura watched the 'beefcake jackass' in the scene change, groaning.

"Oh, great, it's the lech again. Marry the girl? Oh, disgusting! Mud on the book! Massage those gross feet? And- procreate with that cretin? Don't accept, bitch, don't accept! Oooooh! Yes! He just got his! Stay there, idiot, stay in the mud! You look better with dirt all over you anyway!"

"And she runs away, la-la-la! With a burst of random song!"

"And she talks to the horse, and she's going _in_ the creepy gates, _in_ the creepy castle- anyone seeing a pattern? Holy fish sticks, Flounder! It talks! Oh gods, a _gir-rull_! No way! Right, he's in a prison cell, and someone_ obviously_ put him there! I wouldn't be so sure it was the candle and the clock, girl!" Bakura paused the movie.

"Alright, what do we know so far? Over to you, Marik!" Beer and hot wings were disappearing slowly.

"Well, our heroine is a few monkeys short of a barrel! And her father makes axe-murdering machines, probably to shorten his suffering before he just keels over. She has a stalker called Gaston who thinks he's the absolute fairest in the land and sets off gaydar around the country every time he smoothes his hair."

"Be more creative! Like this!" Bakura cleared his throat. "Ladies and gentlemen, we're looking for a heroine! You have to be literate! That means you can read, ladies! Anyone who doesn't know the word 'provincial' can step out of line and go home! You need manners and an ability to kill with sarcasm! Oh, and one minor detail! You have to be perfectly gorgeous!" He lowered his voice. "You-also-need-a-grandpa-who-gets-kidnapped-by-bear-dog-wolf-things-for-a-dad-and-a-stalker-beefcake-who-thinks-you're-just-the-most-fabulous-thing-since-Lady-Gaga.-Many-will-enter,-one-will-win.-Remember,-we're-looking-for-someone-who's-not-a-princess,-so-all-you-princesses-can-go-fuck-yourselves.-This-is-a-Disney-public-service-announcement-campaign." He smirked. "Like that."

He played the movie. "What a martyr! Honestly, the old guy's gonna die anyway!"

"And the bear is like, okay! I'll take you over him any day! Hey, you're pretty, what's your name? Get off the floor, girl! Stop crying! You get a pretty room and a host who ain't gonna bother ya, why're you crying? You're not in the prison cell!"

"And of course he says no West Wing, and the first thing she does is ask what's in it! And, grr! It is forbidden! Wow, what a suave way to ask her out! It's not a request! So she overdramatically flies over to her bed and starts crying, even though she_ chose_ this instead of leaving the old guy in the dungeon till he finally had a heart attack- and not only is _he_ tripping, but so is everyone else! The candles and clock and the _dishes_ are talking! Everything moves! Has a personality! Ho-lee fuck!"

"And we cut scene to the stalker…"

"The minion bursts into song! La-la-la, beefcake, you're too sexy for her anyway, I just want you over everything else! And you want her! Oh, Gaston, oh, dahling!" He slumped over, out of his horrid rendition of a girl's indignity, laughing. "The stalker bit is getting a little old, don't you think? Ha ha, he said she tangled with the wrong man. Ha ha."

"Quite…" Marik was a little scared of Bakura's intense focus on the stupid movie, so he paused it. "For some reason, her stalker reminds me of the song 'I'm the Only Gay Eskimo.'" A chorus of the song ensued, owing to too much insanity and spicy chicken cooped up in the same room for thirty-plus minutes.

"I'm the only gay Eskimo-oh…"

"I'm the only one I know-"

"I'm the only gay Eskimo-oh-oh-"

Then, together-

"In my triiiibe!" The laughter that followed this harmony was proof of just how insane the evil yamis could act.

Bakura played the movie. "Oh, dear, the stalker's been thinking! Stop the presses! I didn't think the old guy came over as insane, but…alright, he's officially a jackass." Bakura was, surprisingly, on the side of good concerning this movie.

"Will no one help me? Gods, what a question!"

"Cut scene! Oh, cry cry cry, fret fret -ha-ba-whaa? And- Holy fish sticks, Flounder! It talks!" Bakura used the phrase again. "Its name is…Mrs. Potts. How…original. The teapot is called Potts. Ha, ha, ha. The wardrobe talks too- this is impossible, she says! I'm on drugs again! The jerk slipped me a roofie! Damn it!"

"And stop whining about losing your father, your dreams, everything, blah blah- ya chose it, girlie! Ya dug your grave! Now lie in it, goddamit!" Bakura whistled.

"And stalking in front of the fire, all mad and puffed-up, we have- the Beast! Isn't he a looker? His time's running out! Oh, no! You'll be a Beast forever, and I'll be doomed to be a French candelabra called Lumiere with a lust for a feather duster! You better fall in love with da bitch quick masteh!" Bakura laughed. "How sad. I think he's kind of sweet, for an emo wolf-dog-bear thing." Bakura burst into laughter. "Oh, that smile! Priceless! Great! Cinematic mastery!"

"How's he gonna soak up all that dating advice under that kind of pressure? Gods, they're just spouting it off like a teapot and a candlestick would know how to get a girl! And the clock's just stalling for time because she's a bitch now who doesn't even give the Beast a chance to meet her, hardly! How- how- mean!"

"And now we see how cool bear-wolf-dogs are! Check him out, leaping over everything, and pow-! Bang the goddamn door down!"

"I'm not hungry? I'm not hungry! She sounds like a whiny teenager! Listen, young lady, you come out of here right now lookin' presentable or you're grounded for a week!" The Beast obviously shared these sentiments, as he was threatening the door as much as any yami.

"Damn right, she's being difficult! But- ahem- gently, gently? It's not her virginity, it's- a- door!" Bakura melted as the Beast got more and more emo, sulking in his tower room. "Oh, dear…"

"That was really British."

"But she's killing him! She's so- so- ugh!"

"Cut scene. Bakura, calm down. It's just a movie." Marik laughed. "Niiice, the plucky comic relief! Cogsworth? And…Lumiere? Lumiere is a lech."

"And the teapot's a rebel. What's your point?" He groaned. "Everything that_ isn't_ human is randomly bursting into song! I think you've been up a little too long moaning and groaning your heart out at the poor Beast, chick! Because if the dishes are singing and dancing, you're really in trouble!"

"If this is France, why does everyone speak perfect English?"

"Tricks with his fellow candlesticks? Is that a metaphor for-?"

"The teapot just said she'd get hot…"

"And the clock can't let her go poking around in...ahem, certain places!"

"Ha ha, the clock said 'buttresses.'"

Bakura put his face in one hand. " Riiight, there's a library! Fifty jillion books! But she _still_ goes to the only place she's not supposed to go! And it looks like…drum roll, please- an attic! Oh, gods, noooo!" He cackled. "Alright, the Beast just committed grand jackassery! That running-away bit she's doing is-"

"Too dramatic! She promised! Aaaand he told her not to go in the goddamn West Wing! Dumb bitch," he mumbled. "Nooo! The wolves got Elvis!" Bakura sighed.

"He's a _noble_ Beast, for crying out loud! Girl, you have no idea! He's awesome! Don't just stand there and gape! And…the fight is over, he's hurt, and you finally figure out, hey, maybe he's a nice guy! And then the scene cuts!"

Marik paused the movie. "Care to summarize for me? I've been too busy spotting innuendoes to actually watch the movie." Bakura stood.

"Well, we have a bitchy woman locked in a castle with epic PMS. She locked herself in her room and refused to eat dinner with the emo Beast. He's the best character I've seen in this movie. The candlestick sang a raunchy song about a whore-house and the teapot thought it was sexy. They gave the girl a tour of the castle because she used her feminine wiles, and then the idiot child went right where she wasn't supposed to and the Beast got justifiably mad, so she threw a hissy fit, kicked herself out of the castle, jumped on her trusty steed Elvis, almost got eaten by wolves, almost drowned, almost hit a wolf with a stick, lost her Scrunchie, and almost got the Beast killed. Got it memorized?"

"This is nowhere close to_ Kingdom Hearts II_…" Marik grumbled. "Where's Sora?"

They sat in awkward silence as the movie played on. Belle (Beauty) was busy trying to clean the Beast's wounds, and epic-failing. Fighting between the two B's ensued.

"Hey, the happy couple sounds like you and Ryou sometimes!" Bakura glared.

"They're nowhere close." A smile formed on Bakura's face as he said this, however. Belle really was uncannily like Ryou.

"Cut scene! They're sending the old crackpot with a heart-attack wish to the madhouse! Finally, some plot development!" He ignored the glare from Bakura. "Oh, and the old man's going after the girl who _agreed_ to this deal! Gods, was no one in their right minds?" He groaned, exasperated.

"And the jackass stalker lech is going to put her dad in the loony bin unless she marries him? That's just twisted," Bakura grumbled. "I'd send that ass to the Shadow Realm."

"She's taking Elvis and the footstool for a walk, and somehow that strikes the Beast as…interesting?" Marik rolled his eyes. "Awww, isn't that _romantic._" The dark one's voice dripped sarcasm. "He gave her a library. And she loved it! What a nerd." Bakura was silent.

"Shut your trap, I'm watching the movie."

"Snarf snarf! Dinner is- snarff- served! Yomm, human flesh! Beast love! More!" He affected a feminine voice. "Oh, gross, Beast, use your table manners, dahling." He switched back to the deeper male voice. "But, honey, is good! Supper! Snarf!"

"Insert montage of romantic moments! See, she's not so bitchy anymore! And he's not such a homicidal psychopath! Ha! In your fauxhawk-wearing _face_, Marik!"

"Montage to random burst of song," grumbled the one-upped yami. "And the dumb clock is masterminding some romantic evening for the happy couple. How does that work, exactly? And does it count as bestiality?" Marik was snarky in the face of Bakura's intensity. "I think the Lumiere thing is bi." Marik laughed in Bakura's face. "Cleaning montage to random burst of song! Where's your favorite bear now, Bakura?"

"Reading _Romeo and Juliet_."

"You don't say."

"And that's what we call a Sexy Beast. Look at him. He cleans up well, doesn't he?"

"Yes, but before, he had frills and ribbons all over his head. I liked that better. Oh, yuck! This is what dreams are made of? Yuck!"

"It's a romantic moment!"

"It's a _dance_!"

"It's sweet!"

"It's puke-worthy! She's so in love with him that- Ew! Romance! Mirror given to her? Dude, that's worth so much on eBay, you wouldn't believe!"

"No, don't leave him there! Your father's not as important!"

"And the clock's so stupid and naïve. Gods, can't he see that the Beast is being emo?"

"Gaston is an asshole!"

"Yes, we've established that."

"He's going to take her father and not give him back till she marries him! And he's gonna kill the Beast! Agh, this movie is horrible!"

"Alright, how does the jackass know what the Beast is going to do to their village? And how does the whole frickin' town know where the bear lives? Honestly, that's a gaping plot hole. Does everyone go wandering through the woods to find a 'haunted castle' with a ten-foot wolf-dog-bear and talking décor?"

"I haven't ever done that."

"For that matter, neither have I." A montage of the village preparing to make war on the Beast was showing, along with another random burst of song. A teacup who had stowed away in the girl's bag was attempting to wield the axe-murdering machine, and the girl herself was locked in a room with her dad, being generally useless and crying her eyes out. "Take whatever booty you can find? Sorry, butch, there's no booty in that castle! All the cute gals are dishes and feather dusters now."

"Meanwhile, in the West Wing, the villain is slowly creeping up on the unsuspecting Beast…" Bakura's voice was mock-ominous.

"Who's too emo to fight right now, please leave a message."

"Even though Gaston has an arrow pointed right at him!"

"The asshole."

"He shot him in the back! Did you see that?" Bakura shook a fist at the screen. "If you like a lady, you respect her wishes, moron! Gods, you're such a half-wit, I can't even begin to start a rant over you! You're not worth my air! So- there." He sat back on the couch heavily, glaring at the screen. Marik just gaped at the rehabilitated villain.

"And the bear-dog-wolf is too sweet just to kill him now that his girl's back, so he just fights him till he begs for life! The bear-dog-wolf earns villain-torture points."

"Shit, now that Gaston's dead, the Beast is dying because the ass stabbed him in the back! Ah, man! Just when she came back!" Bakura's voice raised. "No, the Beast can't die! That's not how it's supposed to- damn it!" He punched the air as he sagged back into the couch. "He can't die, damn it."

"Shut up, Bakura. He's getting some of his own. You can just suck it up or go die in the Shadow Realm." He muttered mutinously about hardcore thieves who turned to hikari-whipped pansies, making the ranting below his breath just loud enough that Bakura could understand it.

"I find it ironic that shiny multicolored magical _bullets _are what's making him- holy fuck, he's alive!" Marik groaned. "Yes!"

"_And_ he's a prince, no longer a wolf-dog-bear." The scene cut from a kiss, and Marik sighed. "Yes, Bakura, it's a happy ending. Bakura?" He looked over to the ex-thief, whose eyes were riveted on the scrolling credits. "Bakura, are you crying?"

(It's just so beautiful!)

Afterward: Later that evening. This is shounen-ai, so continue only if you enjoy Tendershipping and shameless romanceyness.

Bakura entered the house quietly. His hikari would have already gone to bed, at this hour.

The ex-thief shrugged off his leather jacket and made sure his eyeliner wasn't smudged from all that ridiculous crying. Maybe it was sleep deprivation, maybe just pure romanticism, but whatever it was, it was new and made him prone to feelings.

Probably, it was a result of that movie.

He put his house key (no trusting yamis with cars) on the table, walking across the spacious house to the bedroom Ryou inhabited when in a huff. Empty.

He checked the master bedroom. Also empty.

Bakura was a little bewildered. It was past midnight, and Ryou was not in bed. A sudden idea sparked in Bakura's mind, and he jogged silently to the den, peering in, careful to make no noise.

There was his hikari, looking lonely as he watched a Sandra Bullock movie. Bakura held back a sigh. He stood straight again, grabbing a knife and heading out into the night.

He traipsed as far as the city park, inhaling deeply as the clean night air hit his face. The park was nearly empty, a few joggers and their dogs milling about, a few couples making out, and an old lady, an aristocratic old thing, was feeding ducks next to the pond. It was toward her that he jogged quickly, over to the rosebushes in full bloom that edged the pond. He sliced through the stem of one rose with his knife, as he had judged it the deepest red, the most perfect rose in the city at night. It had the cleanest scent, pure and full of the sultry-crisp night, and he smiled a little as he looked at it.

"Now, that's a pretty one, young man. Who is that for?" It was the old lady who spoke to him, and he turned, almost raising his hackles, but deciding she was no immediate threat. The woman was, like, eleventy-hundred years old. So he replied.

"The other half of my soul." He walked closer to her.

"Oh, now, that's a good boy. You treat that girl right, make her feel like she's a princess." Bakura cracked a smile.

"I wish I could be all that he deserves, ma'am. He's too good for me."

"Good, good, keep thinking like that. You'll be alright."

"How long have you been married?" He gestured to the ring on her finger.

"Almost sixty-four years." She smiled. "My husband's over there, walkin' the dog. That's a good man. And that's what he tells me, young man. Just keep thinking how he's too good for you, and you'll get along." She turned back to the ducks and Bakura jogged toward home, keeping the rose in pristine condition as if his life was enclosed in its delicate petals.

Again, he entered his home. He put his house key on the table. He took off his shoes and socks at the door. He took off his leather jacket and hung it by the door. He checked his eyeliner one more time, making sure, with a glance, that his white tank top was not a mess. His jeans were not, either, and he sighed, walking, silently, to the den.

Ryou was still there, curled up on the couch, covered in a silvery-purple blanket, watching the same movie. This time, Bakura entered, keeping to the shadows, his hikari's eyes staying trained on the television.

He could see that Ryou had been crying. He guessed that the sweet lighter half had felt sorrow at having kicked him out to go see Marik. It hadn't even been a fight, really, and yet his hikari's heart had died at being cruel to the man who had tormented him for over half of his life.

As Bakura knelt in front of his hikari, whose posture changed immediately, legs unfurling, feet going to the floor, oversized lilac pajamas hanging off his skinny frame. Bakura pressed the rose lightly into Ryou's chest, the younger accepting it.

"It's beautiful, 'Kura. Thank you so much…" His brown eyes became pools of emotion, warm and trusting. "Yami, I-" He smiled as Bakura kissed him suddenly, cradling his hikari's face in one cold hand. He felt warm tears fall on his cheeks, not his own. "'Kura, why-"

"I love you so much, Ryou. I love you." Ryou's smile became one of a quiet happiness as he saw his yami's chocolate-brown eyes, so different from his own, saying so many things that went unspoken- you're so beautiful, I can't live without you, you're the only one I see.

"I love you, too, 'Kura."

A/N: One, two, three- awww! I wuv cuddly 'Kura!

I re-watched_ Beauty and the Beast_ and it reminded me of Tender for some reason- maybe because it's one of my big five favorite pairings in YGO and I was trying to adhere some fandom to it! It almost made me cry- that movie touched me deeply, and I was just Youtubing it on my Droid! I'm a very sentimental person, but only concerning works of fiction, and just about anything reduces me to a crying mess…I cried at_ Kung Fu Panda_. Twice. Yes, people, that's the reality of it.

Review are love! I have three or four fics lined up to write! Reviewers get replies even with that backlog! I want to know how it was- Bakura warmed up to this movie! I hope it was still good! ^-^ If it wasn't, just kick my ass for it and he'll never love again! Promise! *waves*


End file.
